Page 27 of Three More Shots
Satisfaction pulses through me when he stills. His last minutes are full of the terror he deserves. I sheath my weapon and pull her tighter to me while I issue the next steps. "Burn it all."
Knox is more gleeful than I've ever seen him with the edict to destroy everything, including all the evidence. "Make sure you keep the memories in case we need them later."
Deuce snaps a few shots on his phone for future reference since Knox is better with carnage than cameras. Good reminder to anyone else who considers fucking with me or what's mine.
A few of the guys stay behind to help. With only two drivable SUVs, the remaining men pile in the other. They're big dudes but they'll manage. I need Corinne all to myself with only Deuce and Uwe in the front to protect us while I look after her.
We’re miles down the road when she comes to, frowning and twisting her head while I rub my hands down her body in search of injuries. Only finding the goose egg on the back of her head where the motherfucker hit her even after he admitted she wasn't fighting him. Making me wish I could go back and torture him longer.
“Ainsley?”
The scratchiness of her throat guts me. I let him hurt her, let alone touch her. “She’s safe at the center. My guys are watching over her until we come back. They’ll kill anyone who tries to take her.”
With a wobbly nod, she seems to accept my guarantee, curling in tighter of her own accord and clutching my jacket with weak fingers.
“We have to get her. They cl-close at...”
Agitated and distraught, she tries to fight my care, attempting to sit up while I tuck her closer. Fuck. I have to calm her down. “We will, I promise, but I don’t think she should see you like this. Let me take you home.”
Nothing irritates me more than returning her to that goddamn shit hole, but I know going back to the duplex is the right thing to do for Ainsley. I have to do what she needs me to do rather than what I want. For today anyway. Tomorrow will be better and different. "I'll get you settled with Bub and then go get her. I know she won’t like me picking her up, but I’ll manage. She’ll be fine once she’s home with you."
“That’s what a g-good Dad would do.” With so much intensity in her tone, I can barely stand the compliment. “You’re g-going to be such a good f-father someday.”
I know she’s loopy from the drugs and her probable concussion, but fuck me if her compliment doesn’t fuck me up. I expected anger, fear, retaliation for my failure in letting my enemy — one I didn’t even know I had — get to her, yet all she does is praise me. "A good Dad wouldn't let anyone hurt his family in the first place."
"It isn't your fault."
Her breath blows on my neck while her hand slides around my waist, allowing me to hold her in my fierce grip without complaint or resistance. "He t-told me that his d-daughter wanted you to k-kill him and you didn't. You d-didn't do it."
Jesus.What do I say? What can I admit without driving her away? What explanation can I give for ending him when the result is the same? "No, I didn't do anything for his daughter."
She sighs with consolation, believing I'm a good man in a horrible world. When the reality is, I'm the one who generates the horror.
Someday she'll probably figure out the truth. She'll be shocked and disgusted and full of regret. But it will be too late. She'll want to leave, and I won't let her. I won't let her rip our family apart. I won't let her be a target because she will be even if we're not together. That worry is a burden worth carrying for them even if she despises me for my duplicity. "I'm sorry, Corinne."
For so many things I’ve fucked up, but she accepts my apology for this.
"I know. Everything h-happened so fast. I don't think I even realized I sh-should be scared."
"That's shock,cara. That's why you're trembling and your teeth are chattering. You're body's trying to process everything."
"Thank God it was me and not Ainsley."
Emotion cracks her voice, and she shudders into me. Once again, focusing on her daughter's potential trauma and letting me off the hook. Which I don't deserve but can't help appreciate so I can get her home and examined by Dr. Samson while I go get our daughter.
Chapter Ten
“I want my mommy.”
So do I. More than you’ll ever understand, my child. “I know, but your mommy is sick. If you come with me, I’ll take you to her. Right away, I promise.”
Ainsley crosses her arms with a huff and turns away, shutting her eyes and shutting me out. Fear, masked as fury, embroils her body. That I totally understand but hate, for all three of us. Aware of what will happen if I push too hard, I remain silent. Fighting the adrenaline still burning through me, I wait and count to twenty before I speak again. “She’ll feel better when she sees you, so why don’t you let me take you home where she is?”
Nothing. Killing me that I can’t force her. That I can’t control the situation like I normally do. Ainsley doesn’t give a damn about my power or wealth or dominance. She just wants what she’s used to. What she understands. What she expects.
Seemingly sensing my frustration, the counselor, withCrystalembroidered on her red shirt, kneels down next to Ainsley, just like her mother does when she’s upset. Damn it, I missed it. I need to learn these techniques to connect with her better.
“Hey, Ainsley. What do you normally do after your mommy picks you up?”
